


The Tale of a Bagel Thief

by MeriKG



Series: Threadbare [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:09:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeriKG/pseuds/MeriKG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another moment in time in my Threadbare 'verse.  It's been a little over four weeks since Kurt bought Blaine from the hotel, and the slave is finally beginning to feel secure with his new family.  Very short, fluff abounds.  Won't make sense if you haven't read the whole story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of a Bagel Thief

A noxious beeping burst to life, ripping into the blissful silence of morning. Blaine groaned, rolling away from the noise. He didn't hate his alarm clock with the same degree of intense, passionate loathing that Kurt bestowed onto his, but Blaine definitely wasn't a fan. The thought of Kurt was enough to drag Blaine to full consciousness. He sat up, gently pushing the 'off' button of the faithfully blaring alarm. Regardless of whether Blaine slept in Kurt's bed with him or his own room he generally tried to get to the alarm first, or better still, wake his owner with a fresh mug of coffee and a smile. Blaine dragged himself out of the soft, warm cocoon he'd formed overnight, tugged on his bathrobe and padded quickly to the kitchen. The room was dark and still. He was the first one up...again.

Blaine had discovered fairly quickly that the household as a collective shared a mutual disgust for mornings. Even Rachel, the consummate early bird, frequently slept in now that she had rehearsals long into the evening. Blaine started brewing coffee, flipping on the huge double-pot behemoth of a coffee maker, and began cutting fruit slices. If the first several pieces didn't make it to the platter, well, he was the only one around to notice. Next he slid some crackers and cheese slices onto a plate. He opened the large wooden box on the counter, selecting a variety of bread products to fill a decorative bowl. He set the bowl next to the platter, eyeing a particular bagel perched near the top balefully. It sat there, mocking him from its place next to a whole-wheat roll. 

The bagel in question was liberally seeded with chocolate chips. They winked at him from within the dough, scattered like little brown stars popping through a tan sunset. Blaine had discovered that he loved chocolate chip bagels. Like, really loved them. The only problem was, so did Finn. And this was the last one. Finn knew it too, because he'd mentioned it the previous morning. 

Blaine dutifully ignored the bagel's siren call, turning to get coffee supplies out and lined up next to the brewing pot. When he glanced back, the bagel was still there. He grabbed an apple slice from the fruit platter. Not long ago, anything from that platter would've seemed a divine treat, even the cantaloupe. Blaine had no strong feelings for cantaloupe. Chocolate chip bagels however... 

Ten minutes later the coffee was done and Blaine was pouring a large cup, adding skim milk and a single pump of fat-free hazelnut flavoring to Kurt's favorite mug. A freshly washed plate sat in the drying rack, thoroughly scrubbed free of toasted bagel crumbs. Maybe Finn would forget, or think someone had eaten it yesterday. 

Blaine glanced at his watch and hurriedly made his way to Kurt's room. The covered form of what he presumed was his owner was curled in a ball, his face completely submerged under a pillow. Blaine slid onto the bed, leaning comfortably against the headboard. He turned the alarm clock off just before it could sing out the song of its people and waited patiently, sipping from the coffee he held. A few minutes later Kurt's face surfaced from the sea of blankets. His eyes were squeezed shut in denial of daylight, but his nose was on the alert, sniffing delicately at the air.

"Coffee?" 

"Indeed. C'mon sleepyhead. Sit up for me," Blaine encouraged fondly.

Kurt groaned, slowly pulling himself upright. Sky blue slits appeared in Kurt's face as his eyes reluctantly opened, seeking out the beverage. 

He glared fiercely at Blaine when the slave took a drink. "Mine," Kurt growled in a croaky voice as he reached for his mug. 

"And good morning to you as well, grouchy," Blaine told him, handing over the coffee.

Kurt ignored him in favor taking a large drink, leaning back against the headboard next to Blaine. He sighed contentedly, leaning his head against Blaine's warm shoulder. A few minutes later, he felt up capable of attempting actual communication. "Hi, sweetie. Thank you for the coffee. Sorry I crabbed at you." 

Blaine smiled, running his hand through the designer's sleep-mussed hair while he could still get away with it. "No problem. I know better than to expect sunny smiles and prose in the morning." 

"Hmm," Kurt concurred, diving back into his mug. They stayed that way for a bit, letting the quiet morning and good company fill the silence. Blaine sat still, relaxed and calm while Kurt leaned into him. Blaine usually kept himself fairly contained, especially in the morning, though Kurt had discovered that under the right conditions the slave could actually be fairly hard to shut up. Kurt considered that progress. 

Glancing at the clock, Kurt groaned. He wasn't exactly late, but he wasn't early either. He reached across Blaine, giving up the mug when Blaine reached for it and pulled his phone off the charger to check his calendar and messages. "If you drink all of that I'll be forced to end you," Kurt commented conversationally, without looking up from his phone. 

"I wouldn't dare," Blaine responded calmly, still drinking. Historical evidence disproved Kurt's statement, and even if Blaine did end up finishing the coffee it he could just go to the kitchen...

Loud cussing resounded from the hallway. Oh, Hell. Blaine dove backwards, pushing pillows aside as he tried to slide in between Kurt and the headboard. Kurt watched the maneuver curiously, reclaiming his coffee before it could spill. A scruffy Finn appeared a moment later at the doorway, wearing red and white heart-boxers under an ancient McKinley Football tee. "Kurt, your damn slave stole my breakfast," he announced angrily. 

Kurt arched an eyebrow, leaning forward to rest his arm on a raised knee. Blaine took the opportunity to slink further behind him. "What, there's suddenly no food in the entire kitchen?"

"Of course there is, that's not the point. Yesterday there was one chocolate chip bagel left and I called it. I went through the whole bowl and it's gone. Blaine's the only one that could have done it, he set up breakfast this morning," the large man declared, pointing an accusing finger in Blaine's direction. 

"Travesty," Kurt murmured, watching his half-brother's theatrics in amusement. 

"This is serious, Kurt. I called that bagel," Finn argued plaintively.

"Oh, I fully appreciate the gravity of the situation," Kurt told him, his expression serious. He twisted around to look down at Blaine's partially hidden form behind him. "Did you set up breakfast?" Kurt asked as golden eyes peered up at him.

"Yes."

"Thank you, that was considerate." 

Blaine nodded against Kurt's back, basking at Kurt's smile and the warm twinkle in his eyes. 

"Blaine, come out of there," Finn demanded when Kurt showed no intention of addressing the issue at hand. Blaine wedged himself further into his spot behind Kurt, mostly for show. Mostly. 

"It doesn't seem like he's coming out anytime soon," Kurt remarked, sipping his coffee.

"He needs to be taught the importance of respecting food calls," Finn argued. He took a step into the room, hastily backing out when Kurt gave him his bitchiest death glare. "C'mon, Kurt. You need to do something about this."

Kurt nodded slowly. "This is indeed a grave matter. Upon careful consideration, I have to recommend that you take it up with whomever is responsible for buying groceries, particularly if it's been known since yesterday morning that this prized pastry was the last of its kind." The designated household shopper glared at his brother wordlessly from the doorway. 

Blaine's body shook with laughter behind Kurt. Finn heard the chuckling and shook his head in mock frustration. He marveled that the slave had come so far out his shell in such a short time. And he was beyond surprised that Blaine would have the audacity to take the last of anything from the kitchen. It seemed like Blaine was finally feeling secure in his place among them, and trusted that he didn't need to fear pain for his actions. Finn vividly remembered just a month ago, when the slave had fallen to his knees cowering when Finn saw him take a cookie. Finn would trade a whole lot more than bagels for that trust. Even chocolate chip ones. 

"We have a problem," Kurt told the lump behind him. "He's between me and the kitchen and I'm out of coffee." 

Blaine's tousled head popped up behind Kurt's shoulder, warily observing the large, unshaven form leaning against the doorway. Finn crossed his arms and scowled, trying to look imposing. 

"I think we can take him if we work together," Blaine said, a smile he couldn't contain tugging at his lips. "You take off your shirt and stun him with your beauty and I'll sneak past him while he's distracted."

"I'm pretty sure my brother is unconcerned with me in any state of undress."

"Not completely true. You're so pale I'd probably hurt my eyes from the glare," Finn countered. 

Kurt scowled, pulling himself out of bed. Enough of this, he was out of coffee and he needed to get going. And he wasn't that pale. "Shoo, oaf" he told Finn as he headed for the door. "I've things to do." Blaine got out of bed, following his shield into the hall.

'Bagel thief', Finn mouthed at him. 

'Prove it', Blaine whispered back daringly.

Kurt shook his head at the two of them. He walked past Finn, tugging his brother along with him as he walked. "Come on, you. Let's go to the kitchen and I'll make you chocolate chip pancakes. Deal?"

"Oh, hell yeah!" Finn crowed. That was even better than a bagel. "But none for disrespectors of food calls," he announced. Blaine padded softly behind them, unconcerned. The day Kurt denied him food for any reason the earth would quit turning on its axis. 

"Pancakes cannot be contained, Finn," Kurt responded to his brother's statement. Blaine chuckled softly.

The siblings companionably bickered their way to the kitchen. Blaine set out the plates and silverware in a stack before sitting on a barstool, leaning on the breakfast bar with his own coffee. Finn winked at him, taking the next stool over. 

Rachel popped up a few minutes later from the basement, sweaty and panting from her workout. With a heavy sigh, Kurt pulled out the vegan egg substitutes and another bowl. Quinn and Sam emerged from Sam's room as the noise from the kitchen area filled the house. The pair settled onto bar stools with sleepy greetings to the assembly, snacking on the food Blaine had set out earlier. 

Blaine sat quietly, not hiding, just taking it all in. Rachel squeezed his shoulder in greeting as she walked by, talking animatedly about how fantastic her last rehearsal had gone, despite the director's clear lack of vision. He smiled back at her.

Blaine couldn't believe this was his life now. He honestly couldn't think of a single thing about it that he'd change. Until a pair of gorgeous blue eyes met his while a plate of fresh chocolate chip pancakes topped with thin banana slices slid into place in front of him. Kurt smiled, sliding nimble fingers through Blaine's wild curls before turning back into the kitchen. 

Well, maybe one thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not have been a little drunk when I first wrote this.


End file.
